


Two Heads One Coin

by eyemeohmy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Bondage, Kink Meme, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rung wasn't sure he was quite ready for this... "bonding experience."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Heads One Coin

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for this tfanonkink prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=14884757#t14884757
> 
> I mean, I just had to. Here's hoping OP likes it; I know you said Rung would just be a pleasant bonus, but I wanna throw 'im in, too. ;) 
> 
> It's not my best, and for that I apologize. :'T It's almost tempting to do sticky for this, but... not me, no, ahaha.
> 
> Er, okay, enjoy--not much to understand here because it's just porn so play along.

The rules had been set.

"Hands behind your back. Get on your knees."

Froid obeyed, slowly kneeling between Skids's legs. He crossed his wrists behind his back, settled them there. Never once breaking his gaze with the blue Autobot's.

Skids sat forward, grabbing Froid's mouth piece. Hatches clicked open, unlocking, and he slowly pulled it back. The thick metal tube slid along Froid's tongue, depressurizing and folding into layers inside the receptacle. He coughed hoarsely; the walls of his throat fluttered as they settled with the emptiness.

"Speak," Skids commanded. He sat the mouth piece aside.

Froid licked his lips and inched forward. "W-t w- l-ike m- t- -ay?" he asked. His voice was a low hiss laced with static, barely tangible. Skids was both surprised and intrigued. Nonetheless, he swept off the coolant dribbling from the corner of Froid's mouth, and the therapist leaned into the touch.

"This might not be as comfy," Skids said. He gathered the box from the floor, Froid watching tentatively; removed a small ball gag.

Froid shivered. "On t-- cont-ary," he chuckled, a deep rumbling wheeze in his throat.

Skids smiled. "All the better. Now... sit closer."

Froid did as commanded, leaning in, hands still behind his back. He opened his mouth as wide as possible, Skids carefully slipping the ball between his lips. It strained his jaw a little, but the therapist wasn't complaining. If something bothered him, he would say so--part of the rules, after all.

But with no complaints-- Skids pulled the steel bands around Froid's head, clipping them closed. He gave one strap a tug, made sure they were secure.

"Not too tight?" Skids asked anyway, looking back at Froid. His spark skipped a pulse. Froid's lips were curled over the ball, the straps pulling back the corners of his mouth; he lightly shook his head. His optics were hooded, glowing huskily. A rush of desire from Froid's field brushed through his, and Skids took a second to clear his vocalizer and settle again. "Right then..."

Skids removed the next object from the box. It fit in the palm of his hand; a black, heavy octagon lined with numerous, closed sockets. He tapped the button on top, a small remote control popping out of a slit at the bottom. He looked it over--a set of controls. On, off; gentle, fast, extreme. Simple, color coded commands. 

"I had to read up on these things after I got back from the bar," Skids smirked, turning the device in his fingers. "Haven't used one in a looong time."

Froid sat back; armor on his chest shifted, tucking back and away, leaving a patch of exposed dermal plating at the very center. Skids flipped the octagon over--a small, spherical magnet--before carefully pressing it down on Froid's chest. He held it in place, glancing at the remote; punched the 'on' button, and Skids jumped back as the closed sockets snapped open.

Froid groaned loudly as each unwinding, energy guided strap burst free, coiling around his body and strategically latching into seams. 

Skids helped adjust a few; Froid's plating flared a little. There were ten cables in total, criss-crossing and forming a harness. A pair around the therapist's throat, upper torso, hips, and thighs, keeping his arms clamped to his sides and hands restrained behind his back. Each strap pressing into an exposed seam.

Froid invented heavily. He moaned; even a minute bit of movement ground those cables into his seams, biting down. Another full body stretch, it was enough to automatically open the panels on his chest, exposing input and output sockets, cables tightly wound around each and tucked further inside his frame.

Skids tittered. "I haven't even turned it on," he said. "Maybe I won't have to."

Froid whimpered in protest.

Skids gulped loudly. 

The door opened, and Rung stepped inside.

"Oh."

Skids looked to his new guest, optics wide. Froid, however, kept his gaze locked on Skids.

"Am I... am I too late?" Rung murmured, little fingers adjusting his glasses. He bowed his head. "I-- Maybe I should go--"

"No!" Skids exclaimed, jumping from his seat. He shuffled past Froid, taking the little orange Autobot by an arm and pulling him inside. Rung nearly tripped on his own feet, stumbling along. "We were just setting things up."

Rung stopped at Froid's side. He stared down at his once rival. Froid was shaking in his harness, but there was no shame or fear in his field. Rung felt a little embarrassed--plating clamped down against his frame.

"Something the matter?" Skids asked.

Rung blinked. "Oh. No. Nothing," he answered. Truth be told, he was starting to have second thoughts about this entire... 'bonding experience.' "... It's just," he continued, "I've never... participated in this form of interfacing before."

Froid smirked around his ball gag.

Rung's browplates twitched and furrowed. An old familiar itching sensation returned to his spark. He always felt it around Froid. Just a burning itch he couldn't scratch. And he knew Froid knew--could sense that familiar heat.

Froid looked up at him, finally, a playful glimmer in his lidded optics.

"Right," Rung invented, turning back to Skids. "The rules?"

"Green--electricity play, energy and field manipulation, restraints; plugging in, but that goes without saying. Yellow--nothing too heavy; if it gets too heavy, you'll tell me. Since you'll be gagged"--and Rung's antenna twitched--"the signal to stop--hit red--is three blinks." He demonstrated. "Okay? Does that work for you?"

Rung considered the rules a moment. He glanced back down at Froid, and the mech was just so comfortable, bound and gagged and on his knees beside his biggest rival-- He wasn't ashamed or embarrassed or angry that Rung was seeing him like this. If anything, he was a little impatient. 

Amused, too.

"... Yes," Rung replied, finally, "I agree to the terms and conditions."

Skids beamed. "All right! We got a party now!" He clapped Rung's shoulders--a little too hard--before stepping back and pointing to the ground. "Get on your knees, and put your hands behind your back."

Rung blinked. "Oh," he said, and was admittedly a little... aroused by Skids's sudden shift from playful to domineering and commanding. He went one knee at a time, still a little hesitant before putting his hands behind his back.

Skids showed him a ball gag and another harness device. "Do you know what these are?" he asked.

Rung flicked his gaze to Froid then back. It wasn't too hard figuring out what they did. "Yes, I do," he answered, nodding.

"Open your mouth," Skids ordered.

Rung obeyed.

"Wider."

Rung managed another inch, mouth as wide as possible. Froid was watching him closely now. Skids thrust the gag into his mouth, Rung nearly choking. Skids stopped, but the therapist just shook his head. Keep going. Skids clipped the straps into place, albeit a little looser than with Froid.

"These need to go," Skids stated, fingering one corner of Rung's glasses. He made a noise, then remembered--ah, right. Hard to give the warning signal to stop if you couldn't see his eyes. He automatically unlocked the switches, allowing Skids to take them off. Wide, blue optics turned, meeting Froid's yellows, and for a second they locked.

It'd been a very long time since they last looked into each others eyes. Deep enough to see past false veneers and polities. They could see each others raw disdain and distrust. And even after all these millions of years, that edge remained. Though it had softened somewhat, there was still an unbreakable tension. A burden they'd have to bear; accepting that, even if they were to drop old grudges, they never truly could be friends.

No longer rivals, certainly not enemies, but never friends.

Rung twitched when he felt the cold magnet of the harness click into place over spark glass. He swallowed as Skids showed him the small remote, then switched it on. Rung squeezed his eyes shut, tensing as the cables ejected from their housing, knitting around and across his torso. They snapped into place, and Rung fell forward with a small gasp at the way they rubbed into his seams. The abrupt jerk didn't help much; he moaned, the cables around his neck tightening.

Skids stepped back, admiring his work. "Now that we're all set up," he said. He grabbed a cable across Froid's shoulder, roughly yanking him half off the ground. Froid whimpered helplessly. "Straddle him," he ordered firmly.

Rung widened his optics, but Froid did not hesitate. He stumbled over, spreading his legs and (not very gently) plopped into Rung's lap. Both grimaced at the grinding cables. Froid wrapped his legs around the smaller bot; looked into his optics again, but it was obvious there was something else on his mind.

Rung had to admit, bound in a harness, gag in his mouth, and Froid wriggling in his lap, he was having a hard time concentrating on their jilted relationship, too.

Skids sat beside them, relaxing; remote in each hand. "Setting them on gentle," he said, "ready?"

Both mechs nodded. Froid and Rung locked gazes again, and then--

Even at its lowest setting, Rung was reeling. Froid sunk deeper into his lap, legs tightening around Rung's dainty hips. Pulses of electricity rushed through the cables, flickering blue and red. Each pulse resonated in their seams, releasing little bursts of prickly vibrations into their circuitry. The cables stretched; loosening, tightening, working in a massage.

Rung was nearly overwhelmed, optics wide; he bit down on the gag, hard. He'd-- It'd been so long since he'd been intimate, and this... While it was a new experience, he didn't expect it to have _this_ much of an effect. He prepared himself for more pain than pleasure, but it balanced--well, so far at least.

After all, they'd only just started.

Skids watched, wide-eyed, frame tense and core temperature spiking by the minute.

Froid was whimpering, loudly, rolling the gag in his mouth as much as possible. He bent forward, backstrut curving, the cables sinking down with him. Fingers twitched open and closed against his back. 

Rung dropped against his chest, unable to sit up straight without being overcome with dizziness. He turned his head, realizing his face was resting on Froid's chest, just above the vibrating harness device. He went to sit back, but--

The moment Rung moved an inch--just one little inch--Froid dropped forward. Whimpering desperately; he started rubbing his chest and parted fuselage with Rung's, rolling those cables between them.

Rung's eyes widened, gasp choked by the ball gag; he was helpless, mind too scrambled to do anything besides allow Froid to rut against him with such wanton need. Each ride up against Rung's torso was punctuated with tiny whines, the larger mech's optics creased miserably.

But Rung knew--Skids knew--that was far from the truth.

Rung understood. He would consider being appalled by Froid's deviant behavior later. Right now, he sat forward, and slowly met Froid's grinding pace.

Froid let out a longer whine before settling back into Rung's lap. Chests rose and fell as they rubbed together; one up, one down, working a harmonious rhythm.

Maybe, perhaps, the only time they'd ever been harmonious with one another.

Skids closed his jaw with a creak. Cleared his vocalizer and shook his head. "O-Okay," he stammered, cleared his throat again. "I'm gonna... turn the power up..." His finger felt stiff as he switched the buttons, and now their cries were just too much to handle. He dove forward, dropping the controls; clumsily and furiously unspooled interface cables from his partners, draping them across his thighs.

Skids's hands shook (their moans, their whimpers, oh Lord) as he unwound his own. He stared at the loose cables hanging between them, momentarily forgetting just... what he was doing. The way Froid was bouncing, man--

Right!

"G-Gonna do a loop-de-loo," Skids stammered. He wasn't even sure he knew what he was saying. He plugged himself into Rung first, was met by sizzling ripples of energy. Skids shuddered, but continued his work-- He squeezed through the smaller bots, helping to plug them in.

Both Froid and Rung yipped. It was ridiculously adorable.

Skids grinned, excited, as he held up his last pair of cables. "Annnd..." He plugged into Froid's free sockets, and instantly, hoops of energy and electricity pulsed through their ring of cables, waves splashing to and from one another in a seemingly endless cycle.

Skids gasped, falling forward. He reached out, grabbed the nearest Autobot--Rung--threw his arms around him and pulled him into his lap. Rung was nearly crushed in his large arms, but... well, sort of distracted.

Froid was clumsily pulled and tugged along, crashing against Skids and Rung. Skids helped Froid sit up, meet his face; those yellow optics glimmering behind glasses. Skids slowly wrapped his hands around his cables connecting him to Rung and Froid, curled them around his fingers, and pulled.

The sensation was a little rough on Skids's end, but Froid and Rung were moaning loudly. Skids dipped forward, exventing humid air on Froid's ball gag. He let the cables dangling between them go, one twitchy finger reaching up to finger at the gag. He gave one strap a hard tug, pulling it loose and taking the ball with it. But before Froid could say anything, utter a sigh, Skids replaced the gag with two of his fingers instead.

Froid coughed around the fingers, deep in his mouth, edges brushing at his intake. His optics fluttered, but he recomposed himself; closed his lips the rest of the way, and started to suck. Skids growled, unaware he was pulling the cables plugged into Rung a little too hard for the therapist's comfort.

Fortunately, Skids eased down before Rung could attempt their safeword to stop him. His grip loosened and Rung relaxed--as much as he could, given his situation.

Their sparks began to ache, engorged. Froid was just on the edge of climax before Rung overloaded first, bucking up off the ground and nearly knocking Froid off of him.

Rung's cry settled as he flopped back on the floor. And he really wished he hadn't opened his eyes--Froid was looking down at him with the most delightfully amused look on his face. 

_You overloaded first! How darling!_

Fortunately it didn't last long, because Skids just had to bend down, nip a cable along his throat, and tip Froid over.

_How so very mature, you--_

Residual waves of energy pushed through Rung's cables, and he shivered, though not sure of secondhand pleasure or shame.

Froid sat back, panting. For a moment, he completely forgot Rung was even there.

It was a nice moment for two of the three of the party involved.

Skids, on the other hand, was still very much in need of... another hand. Or four.

"Make me overload," Skids ordered, remembering the game. He yanked and forced Rung and Froid onto their knees, digging now-settled straps into various seams. Rung nearly collapsed again but quickly sat upright before the smug bastard could catch him.

The straps retracted, the devices removed; they were free. And after stretching out a few kinks, Froid rode up Skids's thigh, his long, limber fingers stroking seams and dermal plating. Skids purred, cupped a cheek; leaned in and nuzzled nose and lips into his neck.

Rung squinted, reaching over and groping at the ground before gathering his glasses. He shoved them, tore off the gag, then practically threw himself on Skids. It was an (immature-ish) attempt to seem more enthusiastic than his once-rival, but it just came off as a bit silly. But--well. Skids certainly didn't see it like that. He admired the enthusiasm; beaming, he hooked an arm around Rung's waist, holding him close and cuddling up against his smaller frame.

Froid looked mildly annoyed. Skids didn't see it, but Rung did, and now they were even.

All those teasing, stroking fingers, soft kisses and nibbles, it worked up just enough energy to finally push Skids into climax. Froid and Rung winced, suddenly pulled into a tight, almost crushing hug as Skids overloaded, grimacing and growling quite angrily.

It lasted only a few seconds, and just as the two psychologists _thought_ Skids would loosen up, he only fell back, taking Froid and Rung with him. His arms firmly locked, holding them against his chest.

No escape.

"S-Skids..." Rung tried, anyway, gently pushing. "Skids, we should--"

"Enjoy the afterglow," Skids interjected, optics closed, wide beam on his face.

Froid frowned. "R-gh-t." He was then jerked an extra inch closer.

"You two _definitely_ work better together," Skids noted, giving them both a wink.

Rung and Froid scowled, burying their sulking faces against Skids's frame.


End file.
